


The night-Mare Collection

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Catharsis, Gen, Ghosts, Nightmares, Personal Duty, Poetry, Religious Imagery, Remembrance, War Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 14:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare





	1. Ghost

If I open my eyes,  
I see a new ghost every day.   
Some of them don't see me,  
They're trapped in patterns they  
Don't want to leave.   
But the others see me too clearly -  
A friend once told me  
That I built a bonfire on a battlefield  
A construct of guilt and faith and lit  
By honour.


	2. Ghost

I swore an Oath  
Of Service  
To a Goddess  
Who haunted me  
Before I came of Age.  
She sent me ravens  
And dreams of  
Battlefields.  
There was a sword -  
Razor sharp and bloody  
And so much pain.  
But she also showed me  
That someone  
Had to stand guard.  
And I made  
A choice that  
Wasn't a choice at all.  
When I reach out now  
And trust,  
There's a hand that takes mine  
And for that endless moment  
I  
Am  
All I can be.  
In that moment  
Everything hurts,  
But it's the kind of pain  
That tells you you're  
Alive.  
One day,  
I know  
She'll not let go  
Again  
And I'll join my ghosts -  
But first  
There are paths  
To be walked  
Fires to be tended  
And battles to  
Be fought.


	3. Lovers

My lovers are  
A ghost and a faerie  
Or possibly they're fantasies. 

I tried to show  
Him how to find peace  
But he had no interest  
In the quiet dark  
And the arms  
Of the Gods.   
I made the  
Mistake of   
Trying to force the  
Issue  
And he showed me  
How he  
Died -  
In exquisitely painful detail.  
We learnt to compromise  
And now we dance  
At midnight  
In formal dress  
And sometimes he  
Can keep me from  
Slipping   
Into the nightmares   
That the  
Others bring  
And I've caught  
Him guarding me   
Against the Loci. 

She was born   
From a story  
I was trying to   
Tell  
But she's become  
A little too real  
I can hear her  
Laughter and feel her   
Fingers on my skin  
And in the  
First moments   
I wake  
I can see her  
Red hair out of  
The corner of  
My eye  
And there  
Is the after-tingle  
Of a kiss.  
And when I  
Spiral into the   
Dark  
To see if  
One of my others  
Has reached  
Their rest  
She has my back,  
And the only guides  
She allows are the two  
Ravens  
My lady insists  
Upon.


	4. Alien Sky

There is something to be  
Said for following  
The ravens into the dark  
Maybe my Lady  
Will be   
Waiting for me  
There  
In the cold spaces  
Between the Stars  
And maybe this time  
When I reach out and   
Trust  
She'll help me bring my  
Ghosts home  
And show them the  
Paths that they need to walk.  
Until then I'll  
Be dancing under a pitch  
Black moon  
In an alien sky  
With a faerie  
And a ghost  
While I try to hide  
From the night-  
Mare that's due.


	5. Tonight's Ghosts.

There is something  
Wrong.  
A rumor -  
The peril of too  
Much connectivity.  
Three words -  
Green  
On  
Blue.  
A base gone  
Quiet  
While they try to  
Find the  
Families  
And I can  
See the night-  
Mare out of the  
Corner of my  
Eye.  
In that  
Too long moment  
The face of  
Every friend  
And family member in theatre  
Is on the front  
Of tomorrow's  
Papers  
And if  
She catches me  
I'll smell their  
Blood,  
Taste their Sweat -  
Scream and cry with them  
And wake  
Thinking  
I saw them die.  
And there'll be a  
Guilty spike of  
Relief  
When the photo is  
Of someone I never met.  
And without anything  
To  
Force the connection  
They'll be just one  
More ghost  
That  
I  
Only guiltily remember  
On that  
Broken  
Sunday in mid-  
November.


	6. night-Mare

Sometimes  
When the night-  
Mare lurks  
At the edge of my  
Sight  
I deliberately turn  
And embrace  
Her.  
I reach one hand out to  
My Lady  
And then I throw  
Myself  
Into the Sight and  
Smell  
And Sound  
Of the death of  
One of my  
Ghosts.  
I steal the pain  
And fight the tears  
Because the night-  
Mare offers me  
Something  
Long lost  
And the price  
Is far more  
Than I can  
Afford  
But I'll keep paying  
Because the night-  
Mare is always  
And for ever there.


	7. Sword

In the hour when  
Day  
becomes night,  
He’s waiting.  
This time  
He’s in  
Mess  
Dress.  
It looks  
Good  
On Him -  
His right hand  
Rests on the  
Hilt of a  
Sword that  
I  
Recognise.  
It’s the one  
That  
I _should_ be  
Carrying.  
I’m so  
Tired,  
But he holds out  
His hand -  
And  
We’re dancing.  
And at least I’m not  
Stepping on my  
Sword.  
He really does  
Wear it  
Better than  
I  
Ever have.  
I close my  
Eyes  
And we’re under  
An alien sky  
Once more,  
And the  
Only night-  
Mare who  
Can  
Reach me here  
Is  
His.  
But there's  
Another  
Promise in his  
Eyes ...


	8. Sanctuary

In the hour before   
Night  
Becomes Day,  
She joins me in  
Bed.  
This time  
She’s   
Naked ...  
And that looks  
 _Good_ on Her.  
Her left hand  
Is tangled in   
My hair  
And she's plastered  
Against my  
Back,  
Whispering words of  
Power in my   
Ear.  
She's not  
Stealing my  
Life away -  
Or   
Holding me in  
Place for a night-  
Mare.   
She's the one   
Who calls  
Me  
Back  
And reminds me to  
Breathe - even  
When   
I   
Don't   
Want to.  
She's sanctuary and  
Goddess gift  
And almost as  
Real as  
The   
 _Pain_ ...


	9. "Do Over"

I've lit a  
Candle in the  
Window -  
It's dark inky  
Blue.  
There are   
Words and   
Symbols scratched  
Into its surface -  
Begging for the  
Knowledge to  
Make a   
Difference -  
Even if what  
I want  
Is the impossible.  
A second  
Chance to  
Make it  
Right -  
To save  
My  
Ghosts from  
The night-  
Mare.  
A _do over_ ...  



	10. Better the night-Mare

There are nights  
On  
Which   
A night-  
Mare would  
Actually be  
Welcome.  
The lick of  
Flames,  
The sound of  
Wood   
Against Skin -  
Bruises  
Blooming   
Beneath clothing  
And the guns  
Talking.  
Better the night-  
Mare -  
At   
Least  
For a little  
While  
Neuro-chemistry  
Eases the ever  
Present   
 _Pain ..._


	11. Blood on the Stars

There are  
Droplets  
Of Blood splattered  
Across the  
Stars of my  
Soul  
And my thoughts  
Are caught  
Entranced -  
Stolen.  
Lost like the  
Oblivion  
I Seek.  
It's hard to  
Rest in the  
Cold-dark  
Where the voices  
Are  
Quiet  
When the furnace  
Fire of  
Pain shines  
So  
Very bright  
And the shards  
Of a  
Dream  
Have torn  
My mind  
Apart.


	12. Refuge

Some days  
I am driven   
to choose another world   
to hide in - to fool my mind

Into believing it is some place   
out of reach   
of pain   
and the side-effect of it's medications.

I've built - and rebuilt - those   
Worlds from layers   
Made from the pages of   
books and 

Filled with   
characters spun - and respun -   
from their   
words and names and deeds.

As a result   
I have stood on the  
Flag Bridge of the Salamander,  
Her guard as She slew a dragon,

And made camp   
With the   
Paladins of a  
Star Goddess.

I have drunk to the memory  
Of fallen Green Riders -  
And wished the   
Others Luck,

Before fleeing to another   
World and picking up  
An axe and aiding another   
God's Champions.

I have perched  
On the edge of the 'Net  
And known Silence   
As blessing and curse.

Last but not least  
Are the _other_ Worlds -  
The ones I build not from paper but  
Memory. 

Willing them in to being  
Stitching them together from   
scraps and fragments and   
Images viewed through a Klaiedescope.

I've made and remade   
Each - until I'm comfortable  
Enough to call each   
If not home, then haven. 


	13. Night black Mares

The Ragg'd night  
black Mares and   
their pearly  
translucent riders   
take turns  
chasing   
One and  
Another;  
Over bleakly   
beautiful  
gorse clad moors  
And stark,  
Bare boned  
Mountains  
And through the  
Fragile corridors  
Of the mind.  
Each takes  
Their Turn to  
Rise and  
Fall -  
Is alternately Summoned,  
Banished and   
Commanded,  
To tear  
each Other apart -  
to rend the  
Other into faint  
will-o-whisps,  
Pieces,  
That blood or tears  
Or _Pain_  
Will reform -  
and in the morning,  
Remount   
And Hunt on.


	14. Not All Remembered

I would sell  
My soul  
For the return   
Of yesterday.  
For the chance  
To exchange   
Myself for  
You.  
A forlorn bargain -  
We all   
Swore an  
Oath.  
But my body  
Betrayed me;  
And your minds -  
Never mind.  
Just know  
That I  
Still don't  
Regret  
My _service_.  
For all my rage -   
All my anger and  
My tears -  
I still  
Treasure  
The part I  
Played.  
But it's that  
Bleak day  
In Mid November  
And I   
Hurt that Not  
All of My Dead  
Are among  
The Remembered.


	15. Bones, Sinew, Viscera

The fax  
 _clatters_  
and I  
 _flinch_.  
That sound -  
It's  
The hooves of  
The Pale Rider's  
Horse.  
Someone  
Is Dead -  
Or Dying - or bleeding,  
Bloody and Injured.  
First   
The barest   
Bones.  
(Who. When.  
Where. Are they  
Still Breathing?)  
Then sinews  
(How. What)  
And if I'm -  
Unlucky  
The viscera  
(The last thing -  
That makes it  
 _Personal_ )  
But even the bones -   
and the sinews that   
I -  
I saw enough  
That I ride  
night-Mares -  
And I do  
My best to  
Grieve and  
Remember.


	16. Three Cheers

Here's to the  
Poppy - in  
Blood Red  
and Sometimes  
Bone (and glitter,  
And jewels,  
And whatever  
Happened to all  
Donations being  
 _Equal_?)  
Here's to the   
Day (or two -  
Or maybe a   
Week) that  
We get to  
Speak (if  
We're _Nice_ -  
And don't   
Remind you  
Of our _damages_ )  
Of Those  
Who   
Didn't Come  
Home.  
Here's to the   
Faux-sympathy  
(Where will you  
Be tomorrow,  
When the Poppy has  
Been  
Laid to Rest?)  
Cheers - until  
Next Year!  
(I know where  
I'll be -  
Right   
 _Here_ \- trapped  
With my  
Memories - trying to  
Learn how   
Not to Remember -  
I haven't succeeded  
 _Yet_ ).


	17. Tears

There is something  
To be  
Said   
For public tears  
Today -  
They are - _permitted_ -  
If not actively  
 _Encouraged_.  
But if I weep  
Tomorrow;  
What then?


	18. Half-Smile

The women dress   
In swirling skirts  
And Brocade vests,  
Peacock bright -  
The men slide  
Like shadows between   
Their wives,  
In the  
Blues and greens  
Of war,   
Eddying on the  
Currents of a rumour,  
As they seek  
Some sort   
Of _confirmation_  
They remember the  
Nightmare footage -  
Does she live?  
... There is  
A pregnant pause,  
And she _does_  
Battered, bruised,  
Part-paralysed  
But,  
Flesh and Blood  
And there are some  
Present   
For whom the need to   
Reach out and   
Touch  
The newly resurrected  
Almost overcomes  
Taboo.  
But not quite -  
And she smiles a   
Frozen half smile  
At friend and  
Foe alike.


End file.
